


Reason The Sun Shines Down

by GotTheSilver



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Established Relationship, Frottage, Future Fic, M/M, Marriage Proposal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-26
Updated: 2014-06-26
Packaged: 2018-02-06 06:30:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,022
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1847932
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GotTheSilver/pseuds/GotTheSilver
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Stiles knew that proposing to Derek was never going to be easy.</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Reason The Sun Shines Down

**Author's Note:**

> for the prompt: message in the sand.

Stiles knew that proposing to Derek was never going to be _easy_. Even though their lives had calmed down since Stiles’ teen years, Derek had never lost the whole ‘need to be on our guard’ attitude. That, combined with werewolf senses made it really hard to surprise him. Stiles thinks the whole pack still has bad memories of Derek’s 29th birthday party. Who knew party hats could be shredded into so many pieces? They found some in the couch cushions last week when they were fooling around, and Stiles is sure Derek is still embarrassed at the memory.

So. Marriage. Proposing. Spending the rest of his life with Derek. In theory, it should be the simplest thing Stiles has ever done — he knows he wants to be with Derek forever, there’s no one else he wants to be with — instead, he’s starting to feel like he’s fighting a battle again.

Asking people for advice doesn’t help. Scott and Allison basically proposed to each other; Lydia and Cora have decided to never get married; Erica laughed at him and said it was never a question she and Boyd needed to ask each other, and the less Stiles knows about Isaac’s love life, the happier he is.

He doesn’t want to ask his dad. It’s better, they talk about Claudia more now, but it’s — Stiles can’t do that to him.

In the end, Melissa gives him the best advice. “KISS,” she says.

“I was, uh, planning on that?”

“Not that kind of —” Melissa smacks his forehead. “Keep It Simple, Stupid.”

“Ow!” Stiles yelps, rubbing his head. “But, okay. I could do that. Probably.”

The problem is, with Stiles, even simple kind of gets out of hand.

Hence why he’s on his hands and knees on the beach while Derek waits non too patiently in the car.

Simple is overrated, okay?

*

When Stiles is done, he’s sweaty, tired, and covered in sand. It’s not exactly the image he wanted to go with when he’s proposing, but Derek’s seen him covered in far worse substances and somehow still wants to be with him. There was that memorable time with the slime and the shredded shirt and — getting hard is _not_ the aim right now, so Stiles really needs to stop thinking about that.

Wiping his hands off on his shorts, Stiles heads to the car and leans in through the window. “Hey.”

“Hi,” Derek says, managing to look amused and unimpressed at the same time. It’s the eyebrows. Stiles knows it is. “Are you going to tell me what we’re doing here?”

“It’s a surprise.” Stiles opens the door and gestures for Derek to come out. “You have to close your eyes.”

Obeying, Derek holds his hands out for Stiles to take. “Why do I suddenly feel like Belle?”

“Excuse you? We all know you’re the beast.”

“You want me to keep my eyes shut for this surprise or not?”

“Rude. I don’t know why I’ve been with you for so long,” Stiles says, grinning as he leads Derek towards the sand. “Step here.”

“I know,” Derek grumbles, stepping up on to the beach. “And you’re with me because you can’t make waffles.”

“I can too make waffles.”

“Waffles out of a packet don’t count.”

“They do too.”

“So you want me to stop making fresh waffles?”

“I didn’t say that. Stop here and, uh, hold on a moment.” Letting go of Derek’s hands, Stiles quickly checks the sand and nods to himself, kneeling next to the question mark. “Um, open your eyes?” Stiles tries not to hold his breath as Derek reads the words, but he can’t stop the relieved sigh that escapes when Derek looks at him.

“Yes,” Derek says, his voice rough as he sinks to his knees in front of Stiles.

“Yes?”

“You want me to stay it again?” Derek’s mouth curves up at the corners, and he gently holds Stiles’ face, kissing him softly. “Yes I’ll marry you. You sure you want to marry me?”

“With the waffles you make? Hell yes.”

“Brat.”

“Grump,” Stiles smirks, his hands gripping Derek’s wrists as he tilts his head, lips brushing against Derek’s mouth until they’re kissing. He can feel sand sticking to his knees as they kiss, knows that Derek’s pants are going to be ruined, that they’ll be finding sand in their shoes for months, and he doesn’t _care_.

“Stiles,” Derek says, low and intimate. “You know we’re going to end up with sand in places if we don’t go somewhere else.”

“Don’t care, more kissing.”

Derek laughs, placing one last kiss against Stiles’ mouth before standing up. For a moment, Stiles stays on his knees, looking at the way the sun makes Derek’s skin glow, and he’s suddenly hit with the realisation that he’s _marrying_ Derek. Getting to his feet, Stiles leaps on Derek, thanking all that is holy for werewolf strength as Derek easily adjusts and grips Stiles’ thighs, holding him up.

“What’re you doing?” Derek asks, an indulgent smile on his face as he holds Stiles.

“We’re getting married.”

“I know, you just proposed to me. Are you suffering short term memory loss?”

“I try and be romantic, and you act like an asshole.”

“Isn’t that how we do romance? That’s what you told your dad that time when —”

“Don’t bring that up,” Stiles says quickly. That’s an incident with a truth spell he’d really rather forget. It took him a week to be able to look his dad in the eye again, and he’s not sure his dad ever really recovered.

“How about we go home and celebrate instead?”

*

They’re barely through the door before Stiles is stripping his shirt off over his head and dropping it on the floor. Derek’s hands are all over his skin, and there’s sand _everywhere_ , which is very distracting. “Shower,” Stiles mumbles against Derek’s neck where he’s busy chasing vanishing marks his mouth is making. “We should —”

“Yeah, yeah okay.” Derek’s fingers dip into the waistband of Stiles’ shorts, fingertips grazing against the curve of Stiles’ ass, and Stiles pushes back against them.

“Seriously, sand, all the — oh _god_ — sand, Derek, c’mon.”

Somehow, they make it to the bathroom, clothes scattered behind them, and Stiles finds himself standing there with one sock still on his foot as Derek switches the shower on.

“You gonna take that off?” Derek asks, gesturing to Stiles’ sock.

Poking his tongue out at Derek, Stiles deliberately turns and bends over, smiling to himself when Derek groans. “You wanted me to take it off,” he says when he turns around, dropping it on the floor.

“I’m marrying a tease.”

“Say that again.”

Derek grins, pulling Stiles closer as the water falls in the shower behind them. “I’m marrying a tease.”

“Get in the shower,” Stiles says, smacking Derek on the butt. “This tease is going to blow you.”

“The last time you tried to do that in the shower you choked on a mouthful of water and I thought you were going to die,” Derek says, raising an eyebrow as he steps into the shower, ducking his head under the stream.

“Does that mean you don’t want a blow job?” Stiles asks as he gets into the shower, resting a hand on Derek’s arm to steady himself.

“It means, it can wait until we’re somewhere you won’t choke on anything other than my dick.”

Laughing, Stiles wraps his arms around Derek’s neck and kisses him deeply, enjoying the steady stream of water pouring down on them. “That’s the kind of romance I like,” he says when they part. “Now, here.” Stiles hands the shower gel to Derek. “Clean me up before we get dirty.”

*

If there’s one thing Stiles will never get sick of, it’s the weight of Derek’s cock in his mouth. He’s lost count of the amount of blow jobs he’s given Derek by now, but it’s still as thrilling as it was the first time. Derek never pushed at first, never _took_ from Stiles, but after several lengthy conversations about boundaries and safe words, he’s more than comfortable to fuck Stiles’ mouth whenever they both want it.

This time, though, it’s not like that. Stiles pushes Derek back until he’s lying against the bed, his skin warm and still damp from the shower. He can feel Derek getting hard as they kiss, Derek’s fingers stroking along every inch of Stiles’ skin, gentle touches making Stiles feel like he’s falling into a trance.

“Let me, okay?” Stiles pulls away and meets Derek’s eyes, waiting for the small nod Derek always gives him, and then he slides down the bed, his hands pressing against all parts of Derek’s body. Dragging his lips along Derek’s stomach, Stiles kisses the skin by Derek’s navel, brushing his fingertips over Derek’s dick as he does, smiling when Derek lets out a low groan.

“Definitely a tease,” Derek breathes out, his hand lazily stroking Stiles’ arm.

“Still gonna marry me, though.”

“Yeah. Yeah, I am.”

Stiles gazes up at Derek for a moment before he redirects his attention to Derek’s cock. Gripping it firmly, he rolls the foreskin back and licks the head, all the while listening to Derek’s reactions. Derek’s not that loud in bed, but Stiles has learnt to recognise the small gasps; the sudden intakes of breath; the groans low in Derek’s throat; all of which let Stiles know when he’s getting Derek to lose control. Stiles slowly takes more of Derek’s cock in his mouth, one hand steady at the base, and the more he takes, the harder his own dick gets.

It takes Stiles a moment to become aware of Derek tugging at his hair, and he pulls off, slightly irritated because he was _really_ enjoying that. “What?” he asks, licking his lips.

“Come up here.” Derek lets go of his hair and wraps a hand around his arm, squeezing a little, but not dragging him. “Please.”

Sighing, Stiles maneuvers himself until he’s sprawled out on top of Derek, their dicks brushing against each other and, oh, okay. “Like this?” Stiles moves his hips slowly, kissing Derek as he does; Derek’s hands delicately touch Stiles’ back, trailing up and down as they kiss leisurely.

“Yeah,” Derek says, nipping at Stiles’ bottom lip. “Like that.”

The air in the room feels thin as they move together; Derek marking Stiles’ neck as Stiles tilts his head back; Derek’s hands gripping Stiles’ ass and pushing up against him. Their sweaty skin slides against each other as they speed up, Stiles fiercely kissing Derek, fisting his hands in Derek’s hair. “So — _please_ ,” Stiles groans into Derek’s mouth, his hips grinding down. “I can’t —”

“I know,” Derek whispers, somehow keeping a rhythm even as desperate as they both are. “I got you, c’mon. Let go.”

Stiles’ hands grip Derek’s hair tightly as he comes, their mouths open in a facsimile of a kiss, lips grazing together. Loosening his grip on Derek’s hair, Stiles kisses Derek softly, swiping his tongue along his bottom lip. “You,” he says quietly. “Now you.” Stiles watches Derek’s mouth fall open, his eyelashes fluttering as he pushes himself up against Stiles’s stomach, his cock sliding through the mess of come and sweat between them. Derek does it again and again until his orgasm hits, and all Stiles can do is hold on to him.

Burying his face in Derek’s neck, Stiles sighs, kissing Derek’s sweaty skin. “Married sex is going to be great,” he says, his mouth twisting into a small smile when Derek starts to laugh. “It _is_ ,” he insists as Derek rolls them over.

“You’re ridiculous,” Derek says, kissing the corner of Stiles’ mouth. “Smart mouthed. Intelligent. A terrible maker of waffles —”

“Hey!”

“And I love you,” Derek finishes.

“S’why you’re marrying me,” Stiles says with a grin, wrapping his arms around Derek’s neck and pulling him closer until their noses brush together. “I love you. And you’re making me waffles in the morning.”

*

The day they get married, Stiles tries to make fresh waffles in the morning. They burn in the waffle maker and Derek makes Stiles vow never to attempt to make them again.

**Author's Note:**

> [tumblr](http://heroderekhale.tumblr.com)!


End file.
